A Second Chance at Love (PART 1)
by CrystalIceSweet
Summary: Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne should have no place in Harry's carefully crafted life. Not only was the man way out of Harry's league, he was also Harry's new boss. But all the logic in the world couldn't stop Harry from coveting him all the same. But what Harry didn't know was that if he just let himself go, perhaps getting a happily ever after isn't all that impossible after all


**Summary** : Once upon a time, Harry James Potter had a dream; a dream that involved music, a band, his two best friends and millions and millions of screaming fans. But when his parents were killed by a psychopathic killer calling himself Lord Voldemort, Harry is left picking up the pieces of his once perfect life and making a future for himself and his baby sister.

In all honesty, billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne should have no place in Harry's carefully crafted life. Not only was the man way out of Harry's league, he was also Harry's new boss. But all the logic in the world couldn't stop Harry from coveting him all the same. But what Harry didn't know was that if he just let himself go, perhaps getting a happily ever after isn't all that impossible after all. Slash. **Bruce Wayne/Harry Potter.**

 **A/N: Harry is 25, Bruce is 30 and Rose, Harry's little sister is 6 at the beginning of the story.**

 **Graphic sexual content in later chapters (in Part 2). This is a fic I posted on my Tumblr (myficscrystal dot tumblr dot com, replace dot by reals dots) I figured it was safe to post part 1 here because there weren't any sexual content. Part 2 is coming soon.  
**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

 _5 years ago_

"Mate," said Ron, "That was wicked."

Harry laughed, the expression on his friend's face making the 10 hours he had put in to master this song worth it all.

"I know, right?" he said, putting down his guitar, "When I saw the scores online, I knew I just had to try it out. A little tweaking here and there and we might have our next sold-out single."

"You boys are ridiculous," said Hermione, coming in to the studio. She was wearing a beautiful summer dress; the color complimenting her eyes.

Ron whistled.

"Nice," he grinned and ducked before Hermione could hit him.

"Oh my God," Harry moaned, rolling his eyes so hard that it must be visible from space, "You two should really just kiss. All this UST is making me gag."

"It's not like that," Hermione protested weakly, refusing to look at Ron.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said dubiously, but decided to drop the subject in favour of handing Hermione the lyrics he had written just last night. "What do you think?"

"Love song?" Hermione asked, eyebrows arched, "Anything you want to tell us?"

"Nah," Harry sighed, a little put out, "You know I love you guys. I'll tell you if I ever set my eyes on someone."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Don't think too much about it Harry," she consoled him, "You're only 20, you have plenty of time to meet the love of your life."

"Yeah," Ron said, "Being single is so in right now."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Harry asked incredulously, "Just last week, I saw you trading spit with that Lavender girl."

"Lavender?" Hermione shrieked, making Ron shrink back, "I thought you said she had cheated on you."

"She did," Ron said weakly.

"And why are you back with her?"

"She's hot?" It was more of question than an answer.

Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"So you are willing to crawl back to a girl who broke your heart and humiliated you just because she's hot? Don't you have any shame?"

"Hermione," Harry interjected quickly, rustling his lyrics page to get her attention, "Please, we only have this studio until 6. Concentrate."

Hermione let out a sigh before nodding.

"You're right," she looked down and began to read. After a while, she turned her gaze from the page to Harry.

"Wow Harry," she said, voice breathless, "I think this is your best one yet."

"Really?" Harry grinned, "I wasn't sure because of the chorus, but thank you. It's not too cheesy?"

"No," Hermione shook her head and handed back his sheet, "This is really good."

"Ok," Harry grinned at them both, "This can be a breakout single then. We'll get it perfect before I go ask my dad to invite one of his producer friends over so he can hear us play."

Ron whooped. He played a couple of beats on his drums for good measure.

"Fame is so near I can almost taste it," he said.

Even Hermione couldn't resist a little giggle.

"I swear," Harry smirked, "We have everything we need to make it big. State of the art instruments, a talented songwriter and a gorgeous front woman. What else do we need?"

Hermione blushed at the compliment and hit him playfully on the arm.

"Oh you," she sighed, but the grin was huge and genuine.

"By the way," Ron said, coming closer, "Are we still going to perform at Rose' party next week?"

Harry nodded. His precious baby sister was turning one and his parents agreed to let him and his two best friends be the entertainment.

"But we'll have to learn some kid friendly songs," he warned.

"Like Itsy Bitsy Spider?" Ron asked, looking a little put out, "Mate, it'll ruin our reputation."

"We don't have a reputation," said Hermione, this time managing to his Ron.

Harry laughed, enjoying his friends' antics more then he should.

"Alright people," he grinned, "Let's get back to work."

However, before they could really get in to it, the feeling of his cellphone vibrating in his pockets gave Harry pause.

"Hey, guys," he smiled, "Just a minute, I have to take this."

He took out the sleek smartphone his dad had bought him for his birthday and looked at the display. An unknown number. Harry bit his lips in indecision before clicking on the accept all button.

"Harry Potter speaking," he said in to the receiver, "Who is this?"

"Mr. Potter," came a man's voice, "This is Detective Bones from the Scotland Yard."

"The Yard?" Harry echoed in confusion, "Did I do something wrong? Because I swear Detective, I'm a good boy."

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron stifle a bout of laughter so Harry did the mature thing and flipped him off.

"No Mr. Potter," said the Detective, no note of amusement in his voice, "Mr. Potter, I'm calling because of your parents. Mr. and Mrs. Potter have been found dead in their home an hour of ago. I'm sorry Mr. Potter, the medics tried their best to revive them but they've been stabbed 12 times. Your little sister was luckily with a neighbor. They're both at the police station at the moment. We would like you to come as soon as possible."

Sister? Parents? Dead? No, it must be a mistake. This was some kind of sick joke played on by one of his friends. Maybe his cousin Dudley. Harry had always known Dudley was jalous of him. But doing this was going too far.

"You're one of Dudley's friends, aren't you?" he snarled in to the phone, his good humour gone, "You can't trick me. This is disgusting, even for you."

"Mr. Potter," said the man, voice getting louder, "I am not playing a trick on you. I know you are in shock and in denial, but you have to think of your sister. Lily needs you right now. Mr. Potter. Are you listening to me?"

"Oh God," Harry choked, "Oh God."

* * *

 **PART 1-1**

 ** _Present Day, Gotham City_**

"Hello? Harry Potter speaking," said Harry, trying to keep his phone glued to his ear while juggling a bag of groceries.

"Harry?" came a very familiar voice from the other side of the line. Harry smiled as he recognized his best friend's dulcet tones.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, "It's so good to hear from you. It's been too long."

"It has," agreed Hermione, seemingly nonchalant but there was something in her tone that told Harry she wanted to impart an important piece of news.

He rolled his eyes, depositing the bag on to the floor and thrust a hand in to his jean pocket to fish out his keys.

"Alright," he said, "Don't bother beating around the bush. I know you long enough to recognize that tone. What do you want to tell me?"

Silence.

"Hermione?" Harry asked worriedly when she didn't reply, "What-"

"I'm pregnant," Hermione burst out, a mixture of joy and fear coloring her words.

"Oh," Harry said, eyes widening. For a moment, he forgot about trying to open his apartment door, "Oh! Hermione, that's wonderful."

After graduation, Hermione and Ron had finally got their shit together and agreed to try dating. Due to their natural tendency to constantly argue with each other, their relationship had a pretty rocky start. Luckily, they wade it out and were now happily married.

"You think," Hermione sniffed, "Ron doesn't know yet. Think he'll be happy too?"

"Of course he will," Harry assured her, "Ron loves kids. He'll be absolutely thrilled at the news. Stop worrying so much."

Hermione let out a small giggle.

"You're right Harry," she said, "I am worrying too much."

"Hermione, you'll be a wonderful mother. Any kids would be lucky to have you in their life and I'm not just saying that because I'm your best friend."

"Yes Harry," Hermione drawled, "You are totally impartial."

Another bout of silence.

"So, how's it going with you?" Hermione asked.

They talked about inconsequential things for another minute or so until Hermione put a stop to their easy comradery by asking the question she asked every time she called.

"When can you come home to visit?"

Harry tensed.

Home.

After his parents' death at the hands of a psychopath by the name of Lord Voldemort, 5 years ago, Harry just couldn't continue to see London as his home anymore. He got out when he had the chance; accepting a relative's offer of a house and a job in Gotham City. The detective in charge of the case had also agreed that leaving the country was safer considering that Lord Voldemort was still at large.

His friends had understood at the end, but weren't too happy about it in the beginning. Ron had raged on and on about Harry abandoning them while Hermione had watched on with tears in her eyes. Despite everything, Harry had held steadfast to his decision; believing this was the best course of action for him and his little sister.

For the first few years in Gotham, Harry had worked at his relative's little shop while going to school. He finished his degree 3 years later and was lucky enough to get a job at Wayne Enterprise. It's been a year and Harry's was content with how things were. He really didn't want to go back and drudge up old memories that were best kept buried.

So, it was with some guilt that Harry replied, "I don't know Hermione. I'm really busy right now, not to mention Rose is going to start elementary school soon."

"Ok," Hermione sighed, sounding disappointed but not too surprised, "I understand."

Harry glanced down at his groceries and remembered the tub of ice cream he had brought.

Shit.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, "I really got to go. I need to put any perishables in to the fridge. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, "Take care Harry."

Once he had hung up, Harry quickly used the key to unlock the door to his little apartment and went inside.

He really hoped the ice cream was okay.

* * *

"You look nice," Rose said, looking up at Harry with her baby blue eyes. She was sitting on Harry's bed, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

"Aww," Harry leaned down and kiss her on the cheek, "Thank you sweetie. That's really kind of you to say."

He readjusted his tie a few times before smoothing down his shirt. This, he decided, was the best it's going to get.

"Why can't you take me to the zoo?"

Harry smiled fondly at his adorable little sister.

"Because I have to work." It was an old argument but Harry didn't mind rehashing it. He was actually pretty flattered she wanted him to come so much.

Rose huffed.

Smirking, Harry went over to his bedside table to grab his watch and put it on. It had been a gift from a friend at school and had served him well all these years. The surface may be a little scratched from where he had dropped it a few weeks back, but the mechanism was still working without a hitch. Maybe, if he had the money, he'll get the glass replaced.

"But I want you," Rose whined, still going on about the trip, "Not Mrs. Kepley. She smells."

"Rose," Harry chided her, "Don't say that, it's not nice."

"But it's true," Rose grinned, all cheek.

Harry laughed a little, admitting the point. At 72, Mrs. Anna Kepley, Rose's regular babysitter, did have some kind of unpleasant scent wafting off her. For his own peace of mind, Harry maintained it was her perfume.

"Ok you little monster," he gave her a small push to get her moving, "Go get dressed. I have to leave soon."

"Yes, Daddy," Rose said obediently. Harry's heart melted like every other time she had called him daddy. Harry may be Rose's older brother but he had brought her up and was a father figure in her mind. His therapist had recommended that he maintained the illusion so she may grow up a well-balanced young lady. Harry didn't mind at all; he treated Rose more like a daughter than a sister anyway.

With some manoeuvring, Harry managed to get Rose in to her powder blue sun dress just as Mrs. Kepley came knocking on the door.

"Now, Rosy," he smiled at her as he carried her out of the room, "I want you to be extra nice to Mrs. Kepley. You'll be going to elementary school soon so your time with her is limited."

"I promise," Rose said, nodding her head.

Harry kissed on her on one chubby cheek.

"That's my little princess."

Mrs. Kepley didn't try to hug Rose, something the girl seemed to be infinity grateful about. She did however offer to take her hand. After a glance at Harry, Rose sighed and did as she was told.

Harry resisted the urge to snicker. The look of resignation on his sister's face was rather comical.

"Have a nice day now," Harry called out as Mrs. Kepley made her exit with Rose in tow. Once they were gone, Harry grabbed his briefcase from his table and made his way to his second-hand car.

The old piece of junk that he had brought at an extreme discount price a few years back looked even worse under the light of day. Harry didn't care about looks though, all he wanted was something to get him from point a to point b. If he was lucky, the Toyota will start without a hitch and he won't end up being late for work.

"Good morning George," Harry greeted the security guard as he passed, swiping his card over the reader to unlock the gate.

"And a good morning to you too Harry," George replied cheerfully. He was enjoying a donut, the lucky bastard. "Running a little late?"

"Car trouble," Harry grunted, rushing to the elevator, "Bye George."

He heard a little chuckle from the man in question.

Harry pressed the up button once and watched it light up. He then stared at the tiny numbers on top representing the floors, just willing them to move faster.

Shit, he really was going to be late.

Harry jabbed the up button a second time then a third. The elevator had stopped on the 13th floor and wasn't moving anymore. He jabbed it two more times in quick succession, silently urging whoever it was to just hurry the hell up.

"You know," said a warm voice behind him, "If you keep at it, you're break the poor thing and we'll both be stuck having to walk up the stairs."

Harry swirled around so fast he nearly give himself motion sickness.

It couldn't be…but it was. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and hottest man on Earth, was standing a few feet away, looking amused. Holy fuck, Harry had never thought it was possible but Wayne was even more good looking in person than on paper. And he smelled fantastic too; Harry wandered dazedly what cologne the man used.

"Hmm," was Harry's eloquent reply. Mr. Wayne, luckily, didn't seem to take offense. Harry hoped the ridiculous crush he had developed on the man after he had heard him speak at a general staff meeting a few month ago, won't show. That would just be terrible…and humiliating.

"Hello," said Mr. Wayne, "You're Mr. Potter, right? My secretary Emma loves your cookies. Maybe you can bring me some one day."

"I…I would love to," Harry stuttered, mentally thanking Emma for mentioning him to her boss.

"Wonderful," Wayne clapped him on the arm, his grip firm. "I love cookies, you see, but my butler, Alfred, isn't too good at baking them. I would try my hand at cooking but since I managed to burn water a few weeks," he shrugged, trailing off.

"I really don't mind, Mr. Wayne" Harry assured him, unable to believe he was actually having this conversation, "I love cooking."

"I'm glad to hear that," Wayne smiled again, "But really, call me Bruce."

"B…Bruce then," Harry said, repeating the name and liking the way it rolled of his tongue, "It's nice to meet you Bruce, I'm Harry."

Bruce smiled, grin big and friendly.

"So Harry," he nearly purred, "Why are you in such a hurry today?"

Harry blushed and looked down.

"My car broke down," he glanced at Bruce through his eyelashes, "And I don't have enough money saved to fix it. All my salary is currently going towards the house and my little sister's school tuition."

"What about your parents?" was the inevitable question.

"They were killed," replied Harry, ignoring the stab of pain at the mere thought, "by a psychopath a few years back. Now it's just me and Rose."

"I'm so sorry," Bruce said, sounding sincere, "Well, at least we are both in the little Orphans club."

Harry stared at him, mouth open.

"Oh God," said Bruce, laughing in embarrassment, "That is so insensitive. I do apologize Mr. Potter."

"Harry," Harry corrected, "And no, it's fine. I guess since you've also gone through the same thing as I did, you get to say it."

"But still…"

The elevator took that moment to finally ding, the door slid open to reveal an empty interior.

Harry ignored it for the moment. He figured talking to the boss was a good excuse for his tardiness.

"B…Bruce," he said, stuttering out the man's name, "Are you going up?"

"Nah," Bruce shook his head, "I was going out actually, but when I saw you trying to murder the poor elevator, I had to come see what was going on."

Harry flushed and looked away.

"I'll be going now," he managed to get out before fleeing in to the elevator, the doors sliding shut on Bruce's amused expression.

 _Good job Potter_ , Harry told himself somewhat bitterly, wondering just how bad of an impression he had made on the CEO, _You are a natural at socialising._

He sighed before realizing that in his absent-minded state, he had forgotten to press his floor's button. Blushing scarlet, Harry jabbed at the number 5 with more force then necessary and managed to hurt his finger in the process.

God, could his day get any worse?

* * *

 **PART 1-2**

 ** _Present Day, Gotham City_**

"Congratulations Mr. Potter," said the young woman from Payroll. She was wearing all black today; something she tended to do on Mondays. "Your hard work has finally paid off. You've been awarded 10 000$ as a bonus."

"Bonus?" Harry echoed, unable to believe his luck, "I can't believe it."

10 000$ bonus; the things he could do with that money. In fact, with that bonus, he could finally afford to get his watch screen replaed and take those music classes he had been eying for some time. Even though Harry had long given up the dream of being a famous rock star, music was still his passion; a constant companion that had stuck with him through thick and thin; bad times and good times.

"Yes Mr. Potter." She smiled and handed him an envelop, "Great job."

When she had gone, Harry threw a look at his watch and saw he had 20 minutes left on his lunch break. Without hesitating, he powered up his laptop and went on the Internet. The website for Gotham's premier music school loaded quickly and Harry found the sign up page soon afterwards. He entered his personal information then his credit card number – along with what classes he wanted – before clicking on the submit button. The classes he had signed up for are all night classes – the only thing that fitted his schedule. He'll be tired for sure, but the result would be worth it.

With that done, Harry closed the page and stood up with a satisfied smile. It felt fantastic to have something he wanted for a change. Life was finally looking up.

"Hey Janice," said Harry, smiling at the young woman in question. Janice may be young in terms of age but she was one of the most dedicated workers Harry had ever met. They got on well together. Janice had this easy charm about her that made everyone like her on sight.

"Hey Harry," Janice replied, "Your break's over?"

"Yeah," Harry sighed, "Got to go back to work. What about you?"

"I'm going to take my break in a few."

"Great," Harry replied, already preparing to leave. But before he could do so, Janice interrupted him.

"By the way," she said, "Mr. Wayne was down here a while ago, looking for you."

Harry gaped at her.

"Mr. Wayne, as in Bruce Wayne?"

"Are there any other Mr. Wayne you know of?" she asked in confusion.

"No, but why would he want to see me? He's the bloody CEO."

"I know dear," Janice patted him consolingly on the arm, "If it makes thing better, he didn't look angry so you probably won't get fired."

"I just got a bonus today," Harry said weakly.

"Go," Janice rolled her eyes, "His office is on the 15th floor, you can't miss it."

"Thanks Janice," Harry made a face.

Before going up though, he went back to his small office and took a look at himself in the full body mirror he had installed some time ago. He took in the crumpled shirt and quickly fixed it, the wayward tie and straightened it up. He also made an effort to smooth down his hair but gave up after a while. It'll take more than determination to make that mess presentable.

"Ok," he told himself, "You are going to be calm and professional. No stuttering like a teenage girl meeting her idol for the first time."

He took a deep breath and started to make his way out of his office and towards the elevators.

Luckily – or unluckily, there wasn't anyone currently going between floors so the elevator came almost as soon as he called for it. Harry got in, still nervous despite himself.

Bruce Wayne's office was the only thing on the 15h floor. Janice had been right; even for someone who had never visited before, they couldn't miss the humongous double oak doors with the man's name affixed in front. Harry made himself knock two times, his nervousness already overtaking his earlier high at receiving his bonus.

"Come in," came Bruce's smooth baritone. Harry pushed it open and stepped inside, marveling and the sheer opulence of the place. A giant bay window replaced the wall behind Bruce, giving everyone a wonderful view of the city below.

"You wanted to see me sir?" Harry said weakly.

"Ah Harry," Bruce grinned at him, "Please do take a seat."

With nothing else to do, Harry did as he was told. Bruce turned to look at him directly in the eye.

"Hmm," Harry said when Bruce didn't start talking. Oh god, was this bad news? He didn't think he was going to get fired considering the bonus he had received, but one never knew with businessmen who also happened to be richer than God. The eccentricities of the wealthy, his mother used to say. When his parents were still alive, they had been considered a high middle class family, but nothing more than that. People like Bruce Wayne were still in an entirely different tax bracket.

 _Concentrate Harry,_ he told himself, forcing his body to relax.

"I just want to apologize for this morning," said Bruce.

Harry blinked.

"Apologize? What do you have to apologize for?"

"My insensitive comment about your status as an orphan," Bruce elaborated and Harry relaxed.

"That's fine sir," he said, "I wasn't offended."

"In addition," Bruce continued, smiling at him, "I seemed to have made you uncomfortable and for that I apologize as well. I may not be directly in charge of your department but I still like to be on friendly terms with all my employees if possible."

Harry quenched the urge to ask Bruce if he was in the habit of asking all his employees to his office for a chat.

"Thank you," he said instead.

Bruce reclined against his seat.

"You seem like an extremely hard worker Mr. Potter and Wayne Enterprises is lucky to have you. If there's anything about your work environment that displeases you, please don't hesitate to tell me."

"Of course sir," Harry replied, "But there's nothing that displeases me as you say. I like it here."

"Do you?" Bruce looked intently at him, "Well, I'm glad to hear that." He paused. "How are you enjoying your bonus?"

Harry's eyes widened.

"Did you-" he cut himself off and cleared his throat, "Thank you so much for the bonus sir, I will be using the unexpected financial freedom to take music classes at Gotham Conservatory."

"Oh?" Bruce looked intrigued. "I never pegged you as a musician."

"I'm a guitarist," Harry replied, "Or at least I was. Before…Before my parents died, I was in a band with my two best friends. We were thinking of launching our new album. And then…"

"So do you sing?" Bruce asked, effortlessly sidestepping the landmine that was the topic of Harry's parents.

"My friend Hermione? She's the front woman of the band," Harry explained, passion overtaking his nerves at the memory of his band, "She actually took lessons as a kid. I never got the chance, so now I have a little free time at night, I thought I would give it a go. The Conservatory offers a childcare service until 10 so I can take my classes without worrying about Rose."

"You are an incredible man, Mr. Potter," Bruce said, genuinely admiring, "Taking care of a child all by yourself and at your age too. Not many people can claim the same."

"Rose is my life," Harry said fervently. It was true; she was the only family he had left and he'll care for her until his last dying breath.

"I can see that."

Bruce licked his lips and Harry unintentionally followed the movement with his eyes. God, this man was beyond sexy; Harry wondered inanely if there was anything in the employee guidebook about lusting after your boss. Although, it would be so like him to get in to trouble for breaking an unwritten rule. Harry Potter was good at getting in to trouble.

"Maybe you can meet her one day?"

Distracted by Bruce, the question was out before Harry could stop himself. The young man immediately regretted it though. What on Earth was he thinking? Of course Mr. Wayne wouldn't want to meet Rose. He was a billionaire businessman for god's sake and Harry was just a low level employee with no true ambition of climbing the ladder. The fact that Mr. Wayne had noticed him in the first place was already a miracle in itself.

With that said, he was more than a little taken aback when Bruce replied: "Sure, I'd love to. Maybe you can bring her sometimes."

"To work?"

What was this man thinking?

Bruce shrugged.

"Maybe it'll liven up the place. She can even stay in my office."

"Thank you sir," Harry said, but decided that there was no way he was ever taking up that invitation. Bruce probably didn't even mean it. "Thank you."

"My pleasure Harry," he said, an indescribable note in his voice, "My pleasure."

* * *

 **PART 1-3**

"Thank you for your hard work."

Harry smiled at Mrs. Kepley and gave her the 20 dollars she charged for looking after Rose for the day.

"It was my pleasure dear," she said with a big smile, "Rose is such a sweet little darling."

"I know," Harry said, easily carrying her in one arm, "How was your day princess?"

"I made a drawing," Rose replied proudly, and Harry laughed.

"I would love to see it," he kissed her cheek. She was truly adorable.

Once they were back in the car, Harry asked her where she want to have dinner.

"I got a bonus," he explained, "So we can go for something more…extravagant tonight."

"Tommy's mother talked about a Sushi shop near here," Rose said immediately, "Apparently, they have mango and shrimp hand rolls."

"Oh?" Harry grinned at her, turning on the engine, "Well, let's go there. I can't wait to see what that tastes like."

With Rose's surprisingly precise directions, Harry managed to get them there in a matter of minutes. He parked near the entrance, paused on his way about as he recognized a very expensive car.

Was that Mr. Wayne's?

He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the thought. He was spending way too much time thinking of Mr. Wayne lately and the man's sudden interest in him wasn't helping either. Harry should really accept that Bruce Wayne just wasn't in his league. Bruce was suave, confident, sophisticated and worldly. He had travelled around the world, slept with actors and supermodels, and probably had his own island. Harry on the other hand, had a small apartment that was barely big enough for him and Rose; a wardrobe consisting of one good suit and dozens of graphic tees; and a young child to take care of. He was everything Mr. Wayne probably didn't want in a lover…that was considering he was even gay.

"Daddy?" Rose said, sounding confused, "Are we going in?"

"Of course dear," he said quickly and made his way to the door.

The Maitre D – oh god, the place had a Maitre D – looked extremely unimpressed by his cheap clothing and wasn't at all sorry to inform him they were all booked for the night.

"Really? All night?"

"I'm sorry sir," he said, not looking sorry at all.

Harry sighed, resigned.

"I'm sorry Rose, but it looks like we have to go somewhere else."

He was about to leave when he hold a familiar voice call out his name. He turned.

"Mr. Wayne?" he gaped. He had been right; the car had been Mr. Wayne's.

"Bruce, please," Bruce corrected before offering him a big smile, "What a coincidence. Did you just get here?"

"Yes, but we'll leaving now. The restaurant is packed for the night."

"Nonsense," Bruce said, "I'm here with a friend, so you and your adorable little sister can come join us." He crouched so that he was on Rose's level, "Is that ok with you Princess?"

"Thank you so much," Rose grinned toothily at him and they both look at him with matching puppy dog expressions.

Harry sighed again. He knew when he was beaten.

"If you are sure," Harry said, "We'll come with you."

Bruce led them to a private room in the back and Harry nearly choked as he recognized the black haired man currently occupying the room.

"Yo," said Tony Stark, giving Harry a blatant once over, "Who's this cutie?"

"This cutie is off the table," Bruce hissed, glaring at Stark. Harry blinked in surprise. For a minute there, Bruce almost sounded…jealous.

Luckily, Rose managed to diffuse the tension by asking in an awed voice: "Are you Iron Man?"

Tony looked down in surprise before grinning.

"Sure am," he picked her up easily, much to Rose' delight, and let her sit on his leg, "And who are you?"

"Rose Potter," Rose replied primly, "I'm 6."

"Please," Bruce said, gesturing to a chair, "Sit. We can order when you are ready."

"Just order everything on the menu," Stark said absentmindedly and Harry tried not to think about the price.

"Can you stop being so wasteful." Bruce sighed. "I'm sorry about Tony; he's a spoiled little brat."

"Hey now," Tony protested, "There's more to me than that."

They ordered and Harry watched Tony and Rose interact as they waited, all too conscious of Bruce's presence beside him.

"I do hope I haven't ruined your plans for the evening."

Harry turned to his companion.

"No," he said, "It was just dinner anyways. Thank you for asking us to come."

"It was my pleasure," Bruce replied, "It makes a night in Tony Stark's company a lot more bearable."

"Aww," Stark smirked, "You know you love me Brucey-Bear."

Harry choked on air.

"Stark'. Bruce said dangerously, "Keep your perversions to yourself. There's a child present."

Rose giggled.

"So Mr…" Stark turned to him.

"Potter," Harry quickly introduced himself, "Harry Potter."

He was surprised by the flash of recognition in Stark's eyes but was confused by the smirk he threw Bruce's way.

"Mr. Potter," he purred, "How delightful."

"Ehh," Harry said, suddenly uncomfortable. What was going on?"

"Stark," Bruce hissed, now looking pissed off, "You're trying my patience here."

Stark laughed, unimpressed.

Their order took that moment to arrive.

"So Potter," Stark started once he had taken a bit out of his Californian Roll, "How do you like working for Bruce?"

"He's not really responsible for my department," Harry explained, "I haven't met him until recently."

"You haven't?" Now Stark looks taken aback. "Now, isn't that interesting?"

"I'm a busy man," Bruce snapped, looking extremely uncomfortable, "Stop making a mountain out of a molehill."

"Except in this case, it's already a mountain."

Harry looked from one man to another, not understanding.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it," Bruce smiled at him, "Stark was dropped on the head as a baby. He can get a little crazy."

Stark snorted but didn't protest.

The rest of the dinner passed in amiable conversation. Stark, Harry found, had a wicked sense of humor and liked to tell embarrassing stories about Bruce. Bruce got his revenge by kicking Stark under the table; Harry knew because on one occasion, the billionaire missed and kicked him instead.

"You are a wonderful storyteller," Harry chuckled, his stomach already hurting from all the laughter. Rose, who had gotten bored of the adult conversation, was playing a game on Harry's smartphone; an out-of-date iPhone.

"Thank you," Stark beamed, "At least someone admires my sheer brilliance."

The only problem of the night came when it was time to pay the bill and leave. Harry insisted on paying his part but Bruce wouldn't hear of it.

"I'm rich, remember?" he smiled, "Let me pay."

"But-"

"Oh, just let him do it," Stark rolled his eyes, "It'll make him happy, I _assure_ you."

A little confused as to why paying will make Bruce happy, Harry nonetheless agreed.

The second problem of the night occurred when Harry tried to turn on his engine.

"Oh shit," he cursed. The Toyata stayed silent.

"What's wrong?" Bruce came over and popped his head in through the open window.

"My car won't start," Harry said, trying not to whine. He knew his car wouldn't last that much longer but he had hoped for another few weeks before he needed to bring it in to the shop.

"Oh," Bruce's eyes widened, "Yes, you did say you had car troubles."

He retreated and Harry heard him call for Stark.

"Hey," the man in question said as he looked at Harry. "What's wrong?"

"Car trouble," Bruce replied, "Think you can take a look?"

Stark hummed his agreement before returning to his own car, probably to get tools.

"Stark may have a lot of shortcomings but he's a genius when it came to machines," Bruce said, "Your car will in good hands with him."

"Think he can solve the problem?"

"Of course."

* * *

"I'm sorry," said Stark, "but even I can't fix the problem right now. Your engine overheated and blew up."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you will need to get a new car. This is a really old model, you normally can't find any replacements on today's market."

Harry resisted the urge to whimper.

"Hey," Bruce said, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders, "Don't worry about it now. I'll give you a ride home."

"And how am I supposed to get to work tomorrow?"

"I'll find you a replacement car," Bruce smiled at him, "Don't worry."

"You will?" Harry gasped. He didn't want to like it but it has been a long time since someone had taken care of him in this way. When he had been younger, it had been his parents taking care of his problems. Selfishly, he really missed that.

"I'll give you a ride home and I'll be over tomorrow with your replacement car."

"Thank you."

In the background Stark made a strange noise, but Harry ignored him in favor of getting Rose out of the backseat.

"Are we not going home?" she asked in confusion.

"No sweetie, we are. But Mr. Wayne is going to give ua a ride instead."

"Oh."

She didn't reply after that, electing to close her eyes and doze off.

Bruce's car – although way less expensive than Tony's Lamborghini – was still a sight to behold. Sleek, black, low to the ground; it was sexy and fitted the man perfectly. The inside was entirely leather and was more roomy than the outside had implied. Harry put Rose in the back seat, buckling her up before climbing in to the passenger side. He had to admit he was a little out of his depth – mostly because he didn't understand why Bruce was being so nice. Harry had nothing to offer him that the man didn't already have. The fact that he's taking time out of his busy schedule to drive him home was more than a little mind-boggling. And what's worse, it's giving Harry false hope that they might end up being friends.

In all logic, Harry knew being friends with Bruce Wayne was not realistic. For one thing, their lifestyles were completely different. Bruce was used to travelling by private jet and spending his summer on a yacht. He probably had a Manor house somewhere. Harry on the other hand had never even seen a yacht before. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

"It was a really nice dinner," Harry said, for lack of anything else to say, "I want to thank you again for inviting me."

"And as I had said; it was my pleasure."

Harry blushed.

"You're a really nice guy, Bruce," Harry finally told him. Bruce looked touched.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, "A really nice guy with a big heart. Maybe it's not my place-"

"No," Bruce interrupted, "Please. I don't mind. It's nice to hear. Thank you Harry."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling lost once more.

The rest of the ride passed in silence.

* * *

 **PART 1-4**

"That wasn't nice," said Bruce.

Tony laughed, his voice coming clear as day through the phone.

"I was perfectly nice all evening," he replied, feigning innocence, "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"You know what I am talking about," Bruce hissed, "You and your innuendos! Are you trying to play matchmaker again? I really don't need your help."

"Purlease," Tony drawled, "You so need my help Brucey-Bear. You can be so desperate when it comes to someone you are actually interested in. Geez, I can't believe it took you 3 weeks to build up the courage to speak to him. That's pathetic, even for you."

"I was being patient," Bruce snapped, "I needed to find the right opportunity."

"Sure," Tony snickered, "Patient…"

"Tony!"

"Bruce," Tony said, copying Bruce's tone.

"Tony, I'm not joking," Bruce said, "Harry is not used to your antics like I am. If you see him again, I want you to behave. You'll scare his away."

"Yeah, yeah," Tony yawned, "Take the fun out of everything, will you? But I have to ask, what do you see in him? He's kind of cute and all, in a nerdy sort of way, but he's just so…plain."

"He's not," Bruce retorted, "Harry is extremely interesting. He's an admirable young man and I would be lucky to get the opportunity to know him better."

Silence.

"That," said Tony, actually sounding shocked, "does not sound like you."

Bruce sighed.

"I know," he said miserably, "There's just something about him; I can't describe it. He looks so lonely every time I see him, like some kind of weight it crushing him. I want to help alleviate that."

"Hmm…"

"And besides," Bruce continued, "I think a change of scenery is exactly what I need. Do you remember Damien?"

"The stalker?"

Bruce sighed.

"Yes, the stalker. He called me again last night. I'm thinking about calling my telephone company to block his number or change my number. Damien may be a psychopath but he's an extremely intelligent young man; those two together makes a dangerous combination."

"If you look at it that way," Tony said, "Harry will be good for you. At least you'll be sure he won't spend nights camped out in front of your house."

Bruce shivered at the reminder.

"But the problem is," he said, deciding to move on, "I'm not sure he's gay."

"I think he is," Tony said, "I got this vibe off of him."

"Your gaydar?" he asked dubiously.

He could practically hear Tony shrug on the other end of the line.

"Kind of," he sighed, "Why don't you give it a try? You won't know until then and by the look of things, you'll regret it if you don't."

"Maybe," Bruce leaned back against the sofa and took a swig of his beer. "I'm so out of my depth here. Some people may even say that I'm getting attached too fast."

"I admit that seeing you so invested in someone you have only started to talk to is a little…weird, but I think it's a good weird."

Bruce smiled.

"You'll getting better at giving advice, Stark," he complimented, "Pepper's influence?"

"In a way," Tony admitted, "But really, it's more like…I'm starting to see the world in a different way. Call it an epiphany."

"You mean a mid-life crisis," Bruce deadpanned.

"That," Tony snapped, "isn't nice. You know how sensitive I am about my age."

"I know," Bruce drawled, "That's why I call you out on it. Hearing you rant is so satisfying."

"You're mean," Tony whined, "My other friends aren't this mean."

"That is because your other friends consist of Jarvis, three robots who can't talk and a toaster who resents bagels. You really have to stop building yourself more friends Tony. It's getting out of hand."

"No it's not," Tony replied, "Steve seems to enjoy my little inventions."

"Because Steve, deep down, is a big teddy bear. And he has a crush on you."

"No he doesn't" Tony replied, knee-jerk. "Besides I'm too old for him."

This made Bruce laugh.

"You're 40 Tony, Steve is pushing 90. I think he's too old for you."

"You know what I mean."

"I know," he said soothingly, "I think your advice applies to yourself as well. Take a chance for once; maybe it'll lead to somewhere good."

"Or maybe it will lead to Captain America having a gay freak-out," Tony sounded pained, "You know how these things go. He grew up in a very restrictive world, Bruce. I can't risk our friendship not that we are actually friends."

"Ok," Bruce said, "You can wait for him to make the first move."

"Are you kidding me? That'll be impossible."

"Maybe he'll surprise you," Bruce replied, making a mental note to talk to Steve sometime soon, "But let's move on to the next topic. Prince Ali's birthday in a few weeks time. It's held at the Taj Mahal. Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Tony sighed, "Pepper is forcing me to go. Apparently she likes Prince Ali. What about you? Are you going to bring a date?"

"Maybe," Bruce answered, wondering if by that time he could ask Harry to come with him.

"Well good luck old man," Tony laughed before the sound of something crashing to the ground echoed through the line. "Shit! Dummy! No. Oh god, don't touch that! Dummy."

"I think you have to go now," Bruce said, "Nice talking to you Stark."

"Yeah," Tony replied absentmindedly before hanging up.

Bruce grinned to himself, shaking his head. But the smile soon disappeared when he contemplated his lonely house and wondering what he was going to do for the rest of the night.

Alfred took that moment to come in.

"Do you want some dinner sir?"

"Oh," Bruce shook his head, "No thank you. I'm not really hungry."

"You are sulking sir," Alfred said, unimpressed, "Maybe you should take up a hobby."

Bruce laughed.

"A hobby? Maybe I can take a page out of Tony's book and become a superhero. Wear a cape and protect Gotham. That'll be fun."

"You don't look like the superhero type sir," Alfred said, dry as ever.

"No," Bruce agreed, looking away from his butler. "I guess not."

He sighed.

He hated feeling this way.

 _No_ , Bruce decided, _I am not going to stay home and sulk._

"You know what Alfred," he finally said, "I think I'm going to go out tonight. It's only 8 and the night is still young."

"Are you sure that's a good idea sir?"

"Yeah sure," Bruce shrugged, "There's a new club in town; Starlight it's called. I'll go check it out. Can't be worse staying home and ruminating over my failures as a human being."

* * *

 **PART 1-5**

"You want me to do what?" Harry asked.

"Come get me," came the slurred response from the other side of the line, "Please."

"Toby," Harry snapped, "Where are you?"

Toby was one of his closest friends in Gotham; a party boy by nature, if there was alcohol and loud music, Toby will be there.

"I'm at Starlight," Toby replied, "That new club on fifth? I don't think I'm feeling too well."

"Starlight is a strip club," Harry said slowly, "You do know that right?"

"Not until I got here," Toby whined, "I think someone slipped me something. Please Harry, come and get me."

Harry sighed, put upon.

"Fine," Harry grumbled, "Be there in a few. I need to ask my neighbor to watch Rose."

As it turned out, Marilyn, Harry's neighbor, was only too happy to watch Rose for a few hours so Harry dressed quickly and made his way outside, only to remember he did not have a car.

"Shit," he cursed, "This is not good."

Should he call Toby back and tell him he couldn't come? Should he take the bus? It's already 8 and Harry didn't want to be walking alone this late at night. His neighborhood wasn't exactly a bad neighborhood but it was far from safe.

Who to call…

Truth be told, apart from his colleagues and Toby, Harry didn't have all that many friends in Gotham. He took out his phone and looked at the contact list in despair. It was then he noticed a new entry under W.

Bruce Wayne.

When had that number gone in there? Did someone steal his phone? How could they get in to his phone in the first place?

Curious, Harry debated on whether to try the number out before deciding to give it a go.

It rang twice before a very familiar voice answered.

"Wayne speaking, who is this?"

Oh god, it was really Bruce's number.

"Hello?" Bruce repeated.

"Bruce, hi," Harry said breathlessly, "I'm so sorry to bother you but I saw your number in my phone and I had no idea how it got there and I was curious. I'm so sorry."

"Woah," said Bruce, now sounding amused, "Don't worry about it. Stark's probably the one to program it in. So is this your number?"

"Yes, my cell," said Harry.

"Alright," Bruce chuckled, the voice sending thrills of pleasure through Harry. Bruce really had a nice laugh. "I'll note it down. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

 _Can you give me a ride?_

"No," Harry replied, deciding that he may as well call a taxi.

"Harry," Bruce chided, "That was a yes I heard, tell me what's wrong."

"Well," Harry sighed, "It's just I don't have a car anymore and my friend called to ask me to pick him up. He says he's drunk and that maybe someone slipped him something and I don't know what to do."

"Calm down Harry," Bruce said placating, "Tell me where your friend is and I'll give you a ride."

"It's a strip club called Starlight," Harry replied, "It just opened."

He heard choking on the other line.

"Did you say stripclub?" Bruce asked.

"Yes," Harry replied, "Strip club. Do you know it?"

"A friend," he said the word friend like a curse, "recommended it to me; told me it was a low-key dance club."

Harry laughed at that.

"Toby, my friend, thought it was a normal club as well. He only learned about the stripping part when he got in."

"Well," Bruce said, "I'm heading towards your house now. I'll call you when I get there."

"Thank you," Harry told him.

"It's my pleasure," Bruce replied and hung up.

* * *

Harry stared up at the enormous red-brick building with its flashing neon lights and had the sudden urge to turn back to the car and tell Bruce to drive.

"This is worse than I thought," he whimpered, "Oh god."

"I have no words," Bruce agreed, standing next to Harry and staring at the arched doorway of the club. A burly bouncer stood near the door, his arms almost as large as Harry's head.

"I hate Toby for making me do this."

Bruce let out a big breath.

"Come on," he gave Harry an encouraging smile, "Let's get this over with."

"ID," growled the bouncer once they were close enough. The man didn't even blink at Bruce's name. "Go on."

"Ehh," said Harry and had to be pushed by Bruce to move along.

The interior of the club was as terrifying as the exterior. The music boomed around them, making it difficult to think let alone talk. There was a giant catwalk in the middle and a bar area to the right. The place practically stunk of sweat and sex.

Harry whimpered again.

"Take a breath and look for your friend," said Bruce, a comforting weight behind Harry.

Harry gave him a grateful smile before doing as he was told. It wasn't easy. The room was so crowded that it'll have to take a miracle for him to locate Toby.

He waded through the crowd, Bruce close behind until they managed to make it to the bar. Harry wondered if he could be allowed to stand on one chair to make the searching easier.

"What can I get you?" asked the bartender, offering him a bright smile.

"Oh? A coke please," Harry stuttered, distracted, "I'm looking for a friend actually. Have you seen a guy my age with orange hair?"

He could practically feel Bruce's curiosity.

"I think I did see him a while back," the bartender pointed towards the dance floor, "Go check there."

After saying his thank you and paying for the drink, Harry made his way towards where the bartender had pointed, ignoring the way people pressed drunkily against him as he moved.

After a few minutes of desperate searching, he finally found Toby swaying against a guy twice his size.

"Hey!" Harry called out when he saw the guy getting a little too handsy.

"Back off," the guy snarled, "This one's mine."

"This one's my friend," Harry yelled back, "And he's not in his right mind right now. I'm taking him back to his apartment."

Burly-bear made a threatening step forward and Harry took a step back. Instinct and all, considering the guy probably weighed two of him.

"Hey!" Bruce intervened, coming closer, "That's not nice, buddy."

Wrong move.

"And what are you going to do about it pretty boy?"

Bruce sneered back, pushing at the other man's chest.

And that's when fists began to fly.

* * *

 **PART 1-6**

Despite what people believed, Harry wasn't hiding. No, he was simply making sure not to cross paths with Bruce. After his request for a ride had gotten the man in question punched in the face at a strip club, Harry really couldn't face him. He even called the man not to show up to get him this morning. He had to call Toby instead and he figured his friend owed him one for the shit he had to go through. God, what had he been thinking? Toby had been his problem; involving Bruce was a huge mistake.

Harry whimpered, burying his face in his arms. He was lucky Bruce hadn't called upon him during work because then, he wouldn't have known what to say.

This was truly a disaster.

"Harry?"

"Janice," he forced a smile as he regarded her. She was standing in his doorway, holding a steaming mug of coffee.

"What's wrong Harry?"

She came in and sat down before he could protest.

"Nothing," Harry replied sulkily. There was no way in hell he was telling her anything. He loved Janice, really he did, but she can be a little bit of a blabbermouth. Harry wasn't risking any of this getting out. His reputation, not that he really had one, would be ruined.

Harry let out a sigh and stole Janice's coffee and took a sip. He must have looked terrible because Janice didn't even protest.

"I'm so getting fired," he moaned and resisted the urge to hit his forehead against his desk.

"What? Did you sleep with Mr. Wayne or something?"

Harry's head snapped up so fast it nearly gave him a neck injury.

"What did you say?"

"It's just," Janice shrugged, "Mr. Wayne is not one to socialize with his employees so when he called on you, we just assumed it was because he was interested in you…romantically."

"He's gay!?" Harry gaped.

"Bi, actually," the young woman answered, "Didn't you know? It's old news."

"I'm not really one for gossip," Harry admitted, burying his face in his arms once more. "And no, I didn't sleep with him so don't you dare spread that rumor."

"Of course not, love," Janice said soothingly.

Harry sighed. He got up and stretched, giving up working at least for now.

"I'm going to the hotdog stand," he told Janice, "You want anything?"

"No, thank you."

Harry walked slowly out of his office, still occupied by his thought. At the elevator, he pressed the down button and frowned when it didn't lit up like it was supposed to. He pressed it again, this time harder but got the exact same response. Frustrated, Harry started to jab it repeatedly.

"Oh wow," said a deep voice coming from behind him, "What did the poor elevator do to you?"

Harry swirled around, wincing when the first thing that caught his eye was Mr. Wayne's shiner; a shiner he got because of Harry. The bruising had gone down considerably but it still looked terrible.

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, words spilling from his mouth, "I am so sorry. It's all my fault and now you're hurt and I feel terrible. I'm a coward so I avoided you and I shouldn't because you're wonderful and-"

"Wow," Bruce laughed, "Calm down."

Harry took a deep breath.

"So," Bruce grinned, "You were avoiding me."

"I'm a coward," Harry repeated miserably.

"It's not your fault," Bruce pointed at his eye, "It was that Mason's fault."

"Mason?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yeah, the one who hit me. I had to get his contact number to be able to give them to my lawyer."

"You're suing him?"

"You don't think I should?"

Harry shook his head quickly.

"I think you are fully entitled to a financial compensation. I'll be your witness if need to be."

"Thank you Harry," said Bruce, smiling at him. Even with the awful black eye, Bruce still looked as handsome as any movie star Harry had ever seen on TV. And that beautiful mouth, curved in a wonderful, sinful smile. The urge to kiss him overcame him once more but Harry had enough self-control to take a step back. Even with knowing Bruce was bi, it didn't make the man any less attainable.

"Have a good weekend?" Bruce grinned.

"I stayed home," Harry replied. "You?"

"Went to the doctors," Bruce said, "And showed off my badge of honor to my friends."

Harry laughed.

"What did they say?"

"Thought it was makeup," Bruce admitted, "Apparently I'm not the type to get in to fights."

A pause.

"Oh, before I forget."

From the pocket of his dress pants, Bruce extracted a set of keys and handed them to Harry.

"I did promise you a replacement car."

"Oh," Harry's eyes widened as he accepted the gift, "Thank you so much. I'll give it back as soon as I make enough money to buy myself a set of wheels."

"Don't worry about," said Bruce, "As far as I am concerned, this car's yours."

"But," Harry protested, "I can't…it's too much."

"If it makes you feel any better, it's not new. It's a second hand car."

"Really?" Harry relaxed. "Thank you so much. You've been extraordinarily kind to me Mr. – I mean – Bruce. Thank you so much."

"No problem," Bruce said, looking pleased, "You're going down right? Why don't you take a look right now. It's parked in the underground parking facility. Number 53."

"Yes," Harry replied, "I'll go now."

"Well," Bruce gave him another radiant smile, "I need to get back to work before my secretary threatens to hunt me down. I'll see you around Harry."

And if Harry watched Bruce's ass as he disappeared, who was to know?

* * *

The parking structure was manned by one security guard but protected by state-of-the-art technology.

"Hey John," Harry called out to the guard on duty. John turned to him and waved.

"Well, well, well," John said, "Harry Potter. Long time no see. What are you doing here?"

"To check out a car," Harry replied, "I'll come see you before I go back up."

"Not going to stay and chat?" John asked in disappointment.

"Still on the clock," Harry grinned. "So I have to make this quick."

John waved him away.

Harry made his way down the steps to S2 and searched for number 53. It didn't take him long to find it.

If he had expected a car similar to his old Toyota, Harry would have been deeply disappointed because parked in lot number 53 was a brand new Aston Martin. Harry didn't know enough about cars to guess the exact name but all he knew was that it was way beyond what was acceptable as a gift to an employee.

The phone was in his hand before he even knew what he was doing.

"Harry?"

"Bruce," Harry said, "A second hand car? Really? It's an Aston Martin. That's not second hand."

"It is," Bruce told him, "I know because I bought it a year ago. I drove it to New York and back. It has mileage Harry. It's not new."

"Oh my god," Harry choked, "Is this what you call old?"

Bruce laughed.

"You worked hard," he said, "You deserve it. You have an indoor parking right?"

"At my apartment," Harry agreed.

"Park it inside then," Bruce smiled, "It has a state of the art anti-theft system so you don't have to worry about someone stealing it."

"I…" Harry blushed and cleared his throat, "Thank you Bruce."

"Hey," Bruce said, "It's my pleasure." And hung up, leaving Harry wandering just what on Earth is going on.

He called Hermione the moment he got home that night.

"Oh my god," said the girl after Harry had explained everything to her. "You are living a fairytale."

"Hermione," Harry whined, "I need advice so stop fangirling over this."

Hermione laughed.

"I think he has a crush on you," she singsung.

"But," Harry stuttered, "How is that possible? He's Bruce Wayne."

"And you're a catch," she snapped, "Stop degrading yourself. You know you are."

Harry sighed.

"You're biased Hermione," he grinned to himself, "But I love you anyway."

"You know," Hermione continued, "You should just give it a try. He seems to really like you."

"But…he's my boss."

"Not your direct superior," Hermione reminded him, "Go Harry. You only live once."

Harry sighed.

"Thanks Hermione."

"No problem sweetie. No problem at all."

* * *

 **PART 1-7**

"You need a break," said Toby. He was sitting in Harry's tiny kitchen, drinking Harry's shitty coffee and starting to annoy Harry with his insistence for them to go out.

"I don't," Harry said, fervent.

"Of course you do," Toby insisted, "Look, Rose's at her friends for the night and you don't have to work tomorrow or the day after. And your classes haven't started yet. It's time to partay!"

Harry made a face.

"Not in the mood."

Toby rolled his eyes before slapping down something in front of him. Harry's eyebrows rose in confusion.

"What is that?"

"Tickets to the opening night of a new VIP club in Gotham; it's called Angels and Demons," Toby explained, "One of the girls I was fucking gave them to me."

Harry made a face.

"Mate, do you have to be so vulgar?"

Toby laughed.

"So you coming or what? There's going to be free booze."

"I don't know if I'll fit in," Harry admitted, frowning at the VIP on the ticket.

"Dude," Toby said, "It's still a dance club. With a little booze, no one will care how much money you make or where you live. Come on Harry, live a little."

Harry sighed, capitulating.

"Fine," he warned, but only this once.

Toby beamed.

"But we'll taking your car though. Not everyone has a sugar daddy willing to buy them Aston Martins."

Harry flushed scarlet.

"Toby!"

* * *

For a dance club, Angels and Demons was actually pretty classy. The lighting was low and the music just loud enough to create an atmosphere but not too loud to give everyone instant headaches.

The moment they came in, Toby abandoned Harry in favor of talking to a tall, thin blond girl with knee-high boots. Harry sighed and made his way to the bar, resigned at having to get himself drunk before he could even attempt to talk to someone.

"What will you have?" asked the bartender.

"A beer please," Harry said. The drink came a couple of minutes later.

"So, like it so far?"

He was making conversation.

Harry smiled at him.

"Ok," he admitted, "Classier than I expected."

"It is a VIP club," the bartender gave him a look, "But I have the feeling you don't particular feel comfortable here."

"I'm not the clubbing type," Harry replied smoothly.

They talked for another few minutes – the bar was surprisingly empty – until something, or rather someone, caught his eye.

Harry froze.

Because standing a few feet away, talking to a group of men equally as well dressed, was Bruce Wayne.

"Oh shit,"

The bartender followed his gaze and whistled.

"Wow, Mr. Wayne's hotter in person then on paper."

Harry laughed at that. He had had exactly the same revelation the first time he had met the guy.

"I think I'm going to go," Harry said, already slipping off his stool.

"Why?"

"I work for Wayne Enterprises," Harry explained, "I think it would be awkward if Mr. Wayne sees me here."

"Ah," the bartender smiled, "You're right. Off you go then."

Harry thanked him, turning around to go. Except…

"Harry!"

 _Shit. Double Shit._

"Bruce," Harry put on his most charming smile and turned to face Bruce. "How are you doing?"

"Hey," Bruce laughed, "This is a coincidence."

Before Harry could reply, a young man dressed in an extremely revealing outfit walked up to Bruce and draped himself all over the man. The fact that Bruce did not push him away immediately suddenly made it difficult for Harry to breath. It was stupid really. Harry had known there was no way Bruce would be interested in him; known it deep within him but there had been this little specter of hope that maybe he was wrong. He had let himself fall, let Bruce show him just how wonderful he really is. And for that, Harry was going to get his heart broken.

"I think I need to go," he repeated the words he had said to the bartender, "I'll see you at work Mr. Wayne."

He turned and fled.

* * *

"Oh, I think someone's jealous," cooed Andy, the moment Harry was gone.

Bruce didn't even bother to acknowledge him before running after the other man. Harry's reaction to Andy had given Bruce hope that maybe, he felt the same way as him. Falling for Harry had never been part of his plans; he had first thought him beautiful and rare and wanted to talk to him because of that. Then he had gotten to know him and was even more smitten. He had somewhat resigned himself that Harry was straight and not in to a relationship with his boss, but after seeing the flash of hurt at the sight of Andy draping all over him, Bruce was more confident then ever. He was going to make Harry see this, them, was worth it.

Bruce quickened his pace and managed to catch Harry just as he exited the club.

"Harry," he said, "Can we talk?"

"What is there to talk about?" Harry asked, still looking miserable.

Bruce sighed and took a step closer.

"Please Harry, a minute of your time?"

But when Harry didn't even look up, Bruce did the only thing he could think of to get his feelings across.

He kissed him.

Harry eyes widened in shock as their lips met, but didn't fight back. Bruce pulled the other man closer to him, their tongue dancing together. It felt fantastic…right.

"Is this talking?" Harry asked breathlessly as Bruce finally pulled back after a while. His hair was messier than usual and all Bruce wanted was to tangle his fingers there and pull Harry in to another kiss.

"No, but it got the point across, didn't it?"

"The point?" Harry asked, still looking dazed.

"I like you," Bruce said earnestly and passionately, "I like you a lot. I know it's still early days but this is the first time I wanted to start a relationship with someone. I'm not good at this and I'll make mistakes, but my feelings are pure. Will you accept me for who I am?"

Suddenly teary eyed, Harry let out a trembling breath. For a minute, he didn't speak, just staring at Bruce. Bruce allowed the stare, heart hammering in his chest. Finally, a small smile broke and Harry engulfed him a tight hug.

"Yes," he murmured, voice barely audible over the beat of the music, "Yes, I will."

* * *

 **END OF PART 1**


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